


In Charge

by ionlyjoinedforfanfic



Series: The Good Girl [16]
Category: Wolverine (Movies), X-Men (Movieverse), X-Men - All Media Types
Genre: Dom/sub, Explicit Sexual Content, F/M, Fluff, Hair-pulling, Loving Marriage, Praise Kink, Roleplay, Rough Sex, Safewords, Slight Choking, Smut, Some Degradation, Spanking, all consensual but some discussion/testing of boundaries, role play work based relationships
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-01-05
Updated: 2021-01-05
Packaged: 2021-03-15 17:27:41
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,870
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28567710
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ionlyjoinedforfanfic/pseuds/ionlyjoinedforfanfic
Summary: Donald has a new favourite game, one that allows him to show off his more dominant side. Who really is in charge? Who will be the winner?
Relationships: Donald Pierce/Reader, Donald Pierce/You
Series: The Good Girl [16]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1982072
Comments: 2
Kudos: 6





	In Charge

**Author's Note:**

> Okay this is pure filth - an antidote to the very fluffy previous instalment. I wanted to explore Donald's kinks whilst trying to stay true to the characters and their relationship. In spite of the warnings, I don't think it's all that bad but if this isn't your thing don't worry there is minimal plot so you will be able to enjoy the next installment regardless.

You felt like a compressed concertina, your body crumpled from being cooped up in the car for hours, you sighed like one too when you could finally stretch out - stiff and sore.

"I don't know how you do this all the time." you groaned, dropping your head to your shoulder trying to creak your neck.

"Used to it, I guess." Donald replied, dumping both your bags on the floor as he kicked the door shut behind him. As soon as he's free from them, his hands found their way to your shoulders, thumbs doing their best to loosen your muscles.

"The room's okay."

"Hmmm nice, better than some of the places I've stayed. 'Sides I don't usually have a roommate."

"Oh, and I make everywhere better do I?"

"Sure do baby." You felt the graze of whiskers before his soft lips pressing to delicate skin. "Why don't you grab a shower, it'll help you relax."

"You wanna join me?" you cooed, shifting your weight so you leaned into him, a deep chuckle rippling in his chest.

"Oh baby I like how your mind works but I'm gonna grab some drinks." His metal hand fell and squeezed your rear, before giving a little tap, "Go on, go get all wet for me." You went, laughing though somewhat disappointed at the loss of Donald's touch.

You let the hot water cascade your body, each muscle unwinding with each drop. Time seemed lost to you, washing the hours of confinement away and letting your body unfurl like the hot steam surrounding you, surely long enough for Donnie to return from his errand. Surprised that he'd not got impatient and jumped in with you.

You wrapped the towel around you and tucked the edge in to secure it at your breast, went to the bedroom. It was dark, the drapes drawn, with only the yellow glow from the lamp on the dresser, in front of which Donnie sat. He had on his dark jacket and despite the lack of light his orange sunglasses, sat back, his fingers drumming on the arm of the chair, the metal digits tapping. You expected to find him sprawled on the bed, flicking through the TV so you tilted your head half surprised, half perplexed.

"About time." His tone curt, he pulled his glasses down his nose, peered over them. The gold skull on his ring glaring at you along with his intense blue eyes. You froze on the spot, your burning skin now pimpling. "I've been waiting for you missy." A wink and a smirk, then warmth spread through you with the realisation of what he had planned.

Donald had always had his kinks and been playful with you, but he had a new favourite game of late - he wasn't your loving husband Donnie, he was Mr Pierce, Head of Security and your boss. You his sexy secretary who was frustratingly incompetent but very willing to please.

Donnie liked it rough, like to be in charge but since the incident this seemed to be the only way he felt able to vent those desires. If you were honest it allowed you to lose some of your inhibitions too. You wondered if the idea had just come to him or if he'd been sitting on it the entire journey (though he never gave a clue) you supposed it was inevitable that driving cross country and a random motel room would inspire him.

"What are you doing here Mr Pierce?" playing coy and your part.

"Well seems missy you've messed up again and I need reminding why I keep you around."

"Messed up how?"

"The rooms. I got guys bitchin' that they're bunkin' together. "

"Mr Pierce you asked me to book sleep quarters for 20. You didn't specify sleeping arrangements...so it seems to me it was your mistake."

Donnie leapt from the chair and grabbed your chin, eyes wild and wicked, "What did you fuckin' say? Do I have to remind you who's in charge here?" Squeezed your face tightly, your lips crushed together unable to form words, all you could do was shake your head. Firm and unyielding but not painful, sending sensations to other, deeper, parts of your body, nerves sparking in anticipation. Yanking the towel so that it fell, he barked orders, "Get on the bed. Ass up."

Sheepishly you dawdled to the bed, making sure to keep close to Donnie, fingers brushing against his groin as you passed - teasing and affectionate. Though he made no acknowledgement, you knew he'd liked it, a signal you were happy to play along. You crawled up on the mattress, as you were positioning yourself on all fours Donald's opened palm smacked your bare flesh, stinging and causing you to yelp. Followed by another. Hard and sharp, the sound reverberating through the dim motel room. Donald had spanked you before, always a short, quick tap but this was more, you knew you'd feel it afterwards, knew he’d left a mark. Almost too much but the promise of the pleasure to come cut deep too. Your stomach churning, core pulsing with excitement - Donald dangerous and demanding, it was that which drew you to him in the first place. There was sweet tenderness to him reserved only for you, but you also craved his other side, the dark, controlling roughness. You always had, just now you both were pushing your boundaries further.

Donald crawled next to you, growled, "That's for the fuckin’ lip. Now who's in charge?"

"You are." He huffed, grabbed at the flesh of your ass before he slapped it again, and again - stinging from the flat of his palm, biting from the thick ring he wore.

"Who's in charge?"

"You are Mr Pierce." You're practically shouting, trying to appease him, you did, he began smoothing your skin, rubbing away the pain. He shuffled off the bed, shed himself of his jacket and glasses, stood almost behind you when his fingers gently swept against you, drawing a gasp. Then both hands, metal and flesh, grabbed at you, separating and splitting you, you knew he was staring at your most hidden parts, almost felt his warm breath as he examined your entrance.

"Y'know missy I think you do this on purpose. You like it huh?" You shake your head as he made his way back next to you, began to unbuckle his belt. "No? You should tell your cunt, fuckin' achin' for me darlin'. You want some more?" He pulled his belt from its loops and doubled it over, holding it in both hands he snapped it and you realised his intentions.

"No, please don't." you whimpered.

"No, you sure your fuckin' cunt doesn't want more?"

"No please, Donnie no." You broke, reached for him, pleading.

"No?" His voice a little softer, he petted your hair, "Okay baby...you just wanna little love? A little praise? Want to know you're appreciated?" Donald waited for you to nod, for the uncertainty to fade away. "Don't worry, I'll make you feel good." His fingers danced down your spine before stroking your sex, you whimpered again now for a different reason. "You just want to come huh?" His southern voice now sweet and accompanied by soft, delicate kisses. Just as you thought he'd relieve some of the ache, his hand left your intimate place and flew to your hair, pulling and yanking you up - he's not given up the game yet. "I'll make you come, so fuckin’ hard, so many times but only when I say. You got that? You gotta ask? You gotta beg?" You nodded but it's not enough, his grip tightening.

"Yes Mr Pierce."

"Atta girl."

His fingers drove deep, an instant relief to your yearning and far too quickly you felt the familiar and wonderful tension building. Play or not, Donald was an expert when it came to your body and getting it to respond the way he wanted. You bit your lip hoping to steel yourself and not give in too soon, allowing only little mewls and moans to escape but they soon fell more frequently, the air a mixed melody of your calls and the sound of the slick wetness of Donnie's fingers pumping in and out of you.

Donnie was true to his word, no more spanking or punishment, he offered only praise and approval, "That's it darlin'. Look how good you are for me. You're goin' keep me happy." Your muscles began to contract when there was an unwanted withdrawal. "Not yet sugar." His metal hand in your hair, pulling again, "You gotta ask permission."

"Please. Please can I come? Please make me come?" His eyebrows arched so you hastily added, "Mr Pierce."

"I don't know you gotta beg harder. Louder."

His fingers back inside, plunging - deep and demanding, "Beg."

"Let me come please, please." It was enough for him to move and the tension to coil once more but not enough to allow a release.

"Who is in charge?"

"You are. You are Mr Pierce. Fuck. Please, please."

"Not goin’ to be bratty again?"

"No, I'll be good. Please."

"Yeah, you're good to me. You're a good girl." His metal hand gripping the flesh of your hip, caressing your skin as he finally relented. "Come for me. Let me hear how good I make you feel."

You did exactly as commanded, came hard and instantly, wailed in ecstasy. He never gave in, as soon as you fell from one peak you were reaching another. A clambering mess - you didn't know if it's Donnie or Mr Pierce, your cries pure euphoria. You rode the wave as long as your body let you - too much, too overloaded, you hit out at the bed beneath you with clenched fists. Eventually your arms and muscles quivered, dropped to elbows then collapsed completely. Donnie still moving in and out but shallower and slower, a careful and gentle diminuendo.

When he finally removed his fingers, he gently stroked your clit, let out a raspy chuckle as he gripped your ass cheeks, spread you again, gazing at your still fluttering cunt, you didn't know what wet mess he was looking at but you were confident he'd be proud of his work, be basking in his power over you. And he'd only just begun. You felt his breath, his face close, then he purposely blew on your hot pussy, the cool air sending desire shooting through you. "Look at you. So fuckin' ready for my dick-"

A loud rap at the door cut him short and pulled you from the fog, "What the fuck? Stay there."

Donald stomped toward the door, practically tore it from its hinges in anger. Donnie may have played being boss and being furious with you, but the capacity was real, and you didn't pity those who felt his true wrath. Whoever had disturbed Donald was surely to feel the brunt of it.

"What?" You heard seething anger in his voice, knew his teeth would be barred and the tattoo on his neck would mimic the glower.

"Sir we have had reports of a disturbance."

Your mind now clearer and cogs putting together what had happened - what must have your escapades sounded like to other guests? "We need to check everything is okay?"

"It's fine, now kindly fuck off." Donald had no patience for whoever was at the door, though you thought his reaction maybe not have the best tact. You grabbed the towel from the floor and wrapped it around you, peered around the door with a faint smile. A scrawny man with greasy black hair, who you remembered from the front desk, stood arms crossed in front of you, in the distance a small group of who you suspected neighbouring and affected guests waiting for the feeble man to fix the situation.

"Hi everything is fine. I'm fine...this is just a misunderstanding." He looked you up and down, though you were mostly covered by door he was satisfied you were not hurt, however other ideas filled the man's mind. "We don't allow this sort of thing here. We are a respectable establishment."

"What do you think this is? You think she's a fuckin' hooker?" Donnie's chest puffed out; his metal hand tightened around the doorframe. Your faced burned, you didn't know whether to bury head in shame or burst out laughing but instead you settled on trying to get the man to leave.

"I'm sorry about the noise. We got a little carried away. We're newlyweds." you explained, flashed your wedding band. "We are on honeymoon." that part a half lie.

The man shuffled on his feet, his own face blazed scarlet, struggled to meet Donald's gaze, out of his depth and unsure how to deal with the feral temper in front of him. He thought better of any more interaction with Donnie and addressed you, "Okay but can you keep it down?"

Without chance to respond, Donald slammed the door in his face. You let out a giggle in the now dark sanctuary of the closed room, not really knowing how to respond - embarrassed but also kind of proud, adrenaline from being caught (though having sex with your husband was hardly the peak of indiscretion). You glanced at Donnie ready to make a joke, but his eyes were black, glaring, and as soon as you looked at him, he rushed at you. Before you knew it, you're pinned against the door, the thud made by the action surely heard by the retreating manager. Donald's hand around your neck squeezing, shock and fear made your stomach lurch and throat constrict.

"I told you to stay put." You struggled to swallow, uncertain of how to react, suddenly very aware of the massive frame looming over you, the strength contained in covered muscles, the raging temper that hadn't subsided. Your fear and doubt must have been as clear as day, Donnie moved to your ear and whispered, "I got you baby."

He shot back to his previous position, cocked his head and clacked his teeth. He was still playing, committed to his role, he hadn't hurt you, only the slightest pressure from his fingers around neck, so you relaxed, gave him a smile, he returned a smirk in acknowledgement before the façade was back in place. "Well?"

"I'm sorry Mr Pierce I was just trying to help. I just thought -"

"It's not your job to think. You do as you are told. I'm just goin' to have to fuck the disobedience out of you." His grip on your throat maintained but his cybernetic digits began undoing his zipper and pushing his pants down to reveal his hard, thick cock. Straining and confined all this time; the tip red and leaking and angry.

You thought maybe you should say something, continue with the act but the truth was you wanted him. Watching eagerly for him to free himself, pussy twitching and clenching, yearning for him to be within you. Though it was soon sated when he thrust up into you. Your velvet walls clamping around him. You're against the door, his fingers around your throat, his metal hand under your knee - holding you up, pushing you open. All your weight resting on Donald, barely reaching floor with tiptoes. And he fucked you.

"Are you sorry?" he hissed. You can't help yourself, you shake your head, taunting him. His eyes widened, he wanted you to submit but you knew the fight would enflame the fire, he squeezed a little tighter - you could breathe, yet it's raspy and ragged. He fucked you harder. He was going to make you sorry; he was going to have to make you surrender. Your body gave in before your resolve, your muscles in spasm and calling out once more - no thought of if it would trigger the manager again. Donald still rock hard and rutting, but you knew he was close, he told you, a final vie for position. "Should fuckin' cum inside you, let it drop out of you, remind you who's boss. Or fuckin' over your face like the whore you are huh?" His voice gravelly, strained. You knew he would pull out but it's the threat, the game that was so titillating.

You managed to gasp, "Put me down." Donnie's threw a puzzled look, but he recognised your tone as serious, so he slowed, eventually removed himself from you. Once your feet were flat to the floor, you lowered yourself to ground, eyes trained on Donald's. Kneeling before him you took his cock in your mouth, it's wet from own arousal when your fingers encircled it. He chuckled when he realised your intent, mumbled something about creating a monster though it died in his mouth as soon as you hollowed your cheeks. You tugged and sucked and pulled Donald's orgasm from him. Deep growls emanating from him, his hand rested on top of head, there's no force, he's just holding you in place, gnarls as he trust forward a little, you needed to avoid gagging but you took him and his cum. Swallowing as he spewed compliments, "So fucking good... baby you're good to me...fuck...", you sucked long after he's spent and incoherent. Finally, he gripped the back of your head, drawing you up to him, dipping to meet you half way, planted a full kiss to your mouth. He kept kissing as you stood, the game was over and love and affection the prize. Donnie scooped you up, carried you to the bed, his lips never leaving you.

\---X---

You squirmed, fidgeted, trying to find the most comfortable position, despite the large luxurious leather seats it proved impossible.

"You okay baby?" Donald’s metal hand skimmed your thigh, his flesh gripped the wheel as he glanced between you and the road. You simply scowled. "Oh, baby don't be like that? It was only a bit of fun."

"Well it's alright for you!" The truth was that the spanking he'd given the night before, though a little harder than you were used to, would have been manageable if you hadn't had to spend hours sat in the car travelling. You found yourself cursing him and yourself for letting it go too far.

Donnie's thumb brushing against you in apology, "Really that bad?"

You shrugged. Sulked.

"I'm sorry baby. You gotta tell me, you know I get carried away."

Silence rung in the car for a while, before you muttered, "Maybe we _should_ have a safe word."

"If you want. I mean I think we manage but..." He was right, you knew each other well enough, both very aware of each other and subtle cues that it hadn't been needed before but if things were going to get more intense, more adventurous it would be a good idea. "What word?"

Another shrug of your shoulders, "I don't know. It's all new to me."

"Some people use colours y'know like traffic lights, red for stop, yellow for back off."

"That's good. We can do that."

"Though y'know baby a safe word only works if you say it."

"What's that supposed to mean?"

"Means you gotta talk to me baby." Donald's was right, your current discomfort had nothing to do with not being able to read your signals, it was more to do with you not knowing your own limits. "Anything else I need to know?"

“I'm not particularly fond of 'whore'"

"Now, to be fair I didn’t start that."

"Also, I don't like you criticising my work."

"What?" His expression of concern broken by a broad grin.

"You say I'm bad at it-"

He cut you off, howling, "Baby it's not a real job...wait is that why you got all bratty?"

"I have a very strong work ethical. I'm very proud of my work and I just don't buy I'd be that bad at it the 'tasks' you set me." You were acting the petulant child, arms crossed, frowning but he just continued with his laughter.

"It just part of game-"

It was your turn to cut him off, "Well, we need to make another reason for your compulsion to punish me, like maybe you being a control freak. That's believable."

"Ohh it's like that. Fuck baby you really bustin' my balls." A playful smirk plastered on his face yet you're pouting.

"My bottom is sore." you complained, your lower lip jutted out.

Suddenly, the car swerved, Donald sharply turning the wheel and stopping at the side of the road. It was safe, isolated, not a house or car for miles. He unbuckled his seatbelt and shifted towards you.

His smile soft, he planted a kiss to your cheek, his sweet southern accent hushed and dripping like honey, "I'm sorry baby. I'm sorry you're hurtin'." His flesh hand began pulling the fabric of your long skirt up till enough material was displaced so he could reach your panties. His hand between legs, his thumb delicately brushing against your clit. "Let me make it up to you." Your lip still protruding, but you let him kiss you, pecks to cheek now replaced with open mouthed kisses to your neck. "Let me distract you." he mumbled into your skin as he applied more pressure, though still gentle the delicate sweeps and friction of lace soon had you mewling and soaking, your body ready to absolve him.

"Am I forgiven baby?"

"No." You tried your best to hold your ground.

"No? Please baby, I'm sorry." Circling faster and you couldn't resist any longer, you gripped the handle on the door to anchor you, the feeling of pleasure covering and consuming you. Donnie's hushed whispers, "I'm a fucking slave for you baby. You know that? Whatever you want. It's always what you want. I love you baby."

Finally relenting and kissing him back, "I love you too."

His tone switched, back to playful rather than raspy declarations, "Y'know baby if you're still bitter, maybe I could buy your forgiveness."

"I'm listening" finally smiling, you wondered if it reached your voice.

"Something pretty. Sparkly. Expensive." Kissing your neck, punctuating each word, his hand still resting on your sodden underwear.

"Maybe." You had already forgiven him, never truly upset, simply fed up of the drive, and you didn't need expensive gifts, yet this was another little game to play.

Donnie sat back and looked at you, "Maybe I already got you something." You tilted your head intrigued, not sure where this was going. "Now don't get mad. But it's a matter of pride baby," before you could ask, he's rifling through the glove box, eventually produced a small box. "I know you don't want anything, but I can't have people thinkin' I can't provide for my girl." He flicked the box open, your skirt still up, legs still splayed, and presented you with an exquisite ring. The band was simple gold to match your wedding ring and the jewel a simple circular cut, large. "It's your birthstone."

"I know." the only thing you could think to say.

"Did I fuck up? Don't you like it? Just wear it whilst we're at my folks then we will get you a new one or whatever."

"It's beautiful."

A smile beamed over both your faces as he put it on your finger.


End file.
